


Secrets

by thebriesknees



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - Fandom, peter parker - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Marvel - Freeform, Peter Parker - Freeform, Spider-Man - Freeform, Superheroes, short series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-01 11:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12704073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebriesknees/pseuds/thebriesknees
Summary: Best friends don't keep secrets, but Peter's sure is a big one.





	1. Chapter 1

At this moment, you aren’t sure what was prettier - the sun setting over the skyline of the city, or the brown-eyed boy sitting next to you. As you watch the perfect blend of purple and orange and yellow melt together behind the city, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to Peter.

He’s down on one knee, camera raised to his face so he could look through the viewfinder. He has the hood of his dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, pieces of his chestnut curls poking out. He had texted you an hour earlier that he had heard the sunset that night was going to be beautiful - and he wasn’t wrong. It was stunning. It wasn’t often enough that you had the opportunity to witness the mesmerizing sky as it dipped lower and lower behind the billboards and skyscrapers.

With a final click, Peter moves the camera away from his face and stands. He tilts his chin up, taking a moment to appreciate the scene in front of him, unfiltered by a camera lens. While he admires the view in front of him, you admire the boy beside you.

You didn’t always feel this way about your best friend, it just sort of developed over the years.

Your friendship started back to the end of sixth grade when you both wound up in detention for “cheating.” Sure, you might have glanced at his paper once or twice or… three times, but science and math are your worst subjects, and the test you were taking was a toxic mix of the two.

Everyone in class knew that Peter excelled at both subjects, and he was oh so conveniently seated at the desk exactly to your right. Too bad you had never mastered the art of stealth. Not only did _you_ get in trouble, but Peter did too - school rules. To say you felt guilty would be an understatement. Peter didn’t do anything wrong and yet there he was after school, sulking in the desk next to yours for your disciplinary after school hours. As soon as your detention session was over, you attacked Peter with apologies, explaining your intellectual dilemma.

Long story short, he accepted your apology, offered to walk you home, and the two of you have been friends every sine. He even tutors you in your math and science classes to this day. You are thankful for him, and you are sure he feels the same way about you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Peter’s soft voice pulls you from your thoughts and brings you back to the present. He turns to you and smiles one of his soft, close-lipped smiles and you swear your stomach actually did a flip. “Very.” you reply, returning the smile.

He lifts his camera strap over his head and starts to pack his stuff back into his backpack. The sun was setting fast, signaling that your adventure was over and it was time to head home. Peter slings his backpack onto his shoulders and looks at you. “Ready to go?” You nod and take one more look at your feet dangling over the buildings edge.

In order to get the “perfect shot,” Peter insisted you climb with him to the top of the tallest building in your neighborhood. He climbed behind you as you made your way up the fire escapes and conveniently placed bricks that stuck out just enough for you to use them. In all the time you had known Peter, you would have never thought _he_ would be the one to suggest climbing up the side of a dangerously tall building. He was never really the athletic type - in fact, that’s mostly why he got bullied. He was the classic “kid-with-glasses-who-always-gets-picked-last-in-gym-class” guy.

But lately something’s changed. He didn’t wear his glasses anymore, and when you joked about him finally getting contacts, he laughed it off, but you didn’t miss the shifty, nervous expression he had after you mentioned it. He was that way about a lot of things now.

Before you can make a move to stand up, Peter is by your side, his arm extended in an offer to help you. You take his hand and he pulls you to your feet.

“Thanks for asking me to tag along, Pete.” you smile, genuinely glad he invited you, even to do something so simple - and low key romantic - as to watch the sunset. He lets go of your hand and situates his on the straps of his backpack. “Couldn’t have asked for a better assistant.” he teased, smiling back at you.

You give his arm a playful punch and you’re surprised when it actually hurts. When you punched him, you actually hit muscle. Gone was the scrawny, stick-like arm, now replaced with rock-hard muscle. The surprise on your face is obvious - Peter sees - but the two of you say nothing. Instead, Peter clears his throat and looks at the watch on his wrist. “We should head back, Aunt May is actually cooking tonight.”

“Isn’t that reason enough not to head back?” You tease, but start walking towards the other edge of the building anyways. Peter smiles at your joke, but says nothing as he walks with you. Usually, he would have said something smart back at you.

Something about his demeanor changed as he walks you back to your apartment, and the silence between you two is unbearable, but you don’t bug him about it. You trust Peter to come to you when he needs to and tell you everything on his mind - he always does, right?

 


	2. Chapter 2

High school for you is not as bad as most people make it out to be. You don’t mind your classes, you get good grades, and you actually enjoy attending sports games, but what you do mind is people - more specifically, Chloe Hansen. Now, you’re not the type to judge right away, you like to give people second chances because first impressions are almost always entirely wrong. However, Chloe has proved time and time again that she doesn’t deserve any chances at all.

Seemingly kind and no doubt stunning, she has nearly everyone wrapped around her finger. Every high school has a Chloe Hansen. How can someone so manipulative and cruel be so popular - and how could Peter ever like someone like her?

All of this goes through your mind as you sit cross-legged on Peter’s bed, watching as he sits right in front of you on the bed, eagerly explains how lucky he is to be paired for a project with Chloe fucking Hansen.

It was almost sickening the way he talked about her. At lunch, he would go on and on about how nice she looked that day in Biotech or how good she smelled when she walked by - to which you would halfheartedly reply “Creepy much?”

“I’m telling you Y/N,it’s-”

“It’s the Parker Luck, I know.” you interrupted, “You said that already.” Despite the annoyance in your voice being very obvious, Peter didn’t catch it.

“We swapped numbers and everything, can you believe I get to say that Chloe Hansen has my number? She’s supposed to call me later so we can work out the details for our project.” He pauses and looks at you expectantly, waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

What can you say? You aren’t exactly happy for him, but you could see that he is. He’s bouncing his knee up and down as he spoke; it was something he did when he was excited or nervous - or both. You found it cute, actually. You only wish that he talked about you the way he talks about Chloe…

“I’m sure the two of you will get an A.” You smile and pat his knee reassuringly. Peter grins and touches your hand. He’s not holding it, it’s just a light touch, but it’s enough to make your heart beat just a little bit faster. You pull your hand away once he does, but his eyes don’t leave your face. They are wide and searching, but there’s something else that’s there too - hesitance.

The sudden vibration of the bed causes you to flinch and look away quickly. Peter reaches for his phone and checks the caller ID, a smile spreading across his face. “It’s Chloe!” His happiness is quickly replaced with concern when he looks at you again. “You don’t mind if I take this, do you? It won’t take long, I promise.”

You want to tell him to just let it ring. You want to remind him that he also promised that he would help you with your math review. You really want to tell him what you really thought about Chloe. Instead, you’re shaking your head before you say anything stupid.

“Go ahead,” you shrug as nonchalantly as possible, “homework can wait I guess.” He shoots you a quick smile and accepts the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey!”

You took this as your cue to step out of the room for a bit. He said it wouldn’t be long, right? Some part of you doubted that. You push yourself off the bed and made your way out of the kitchen, stealing a glance at Peter as you pass him rummaging around in his desk drawers for a pad of paper.

When you turn to step into the kitchen, you are instantly warmed by the sight of a smiling May drying her hands with a dish towel. “Ready for a snack break I take it?” She chuckles to herself and you can’t help but smile. “I’m alright. Thank you, May.”

She nods but doesn’t look away from you and you know it’s coming. “How are you, Y/N?” Her eyebrows knit together, “How are things at home?” It’s the questions adults have been asking you for months now. You have a default answer to these questions since it makes them drop the topic faster, and, despite how much May means to you, you decide to use it on her too.

“I’m okay. My dad and I are just taking it day by day, you know? We have each other’s backs. We’re okay, really.” You kept your answer short and sweet, most people let it go after that. They usually pat you on the back or rest a hand on your shoulder - like May was doing right now - and give you a sympathetic smile before offering you a line of their own. “If you need anything at all, I’m always here.” You smile at her now, and this time you mean it. “Thank you, May.” You mean that too.

Satisfied with how the conversation went, she pulls away and rests her hands on her hips.   
“I have to head out for a bit. If you kids need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” She pauses to grab her keys before adding with a smile, “And make sure you two actually get homework done. No goofing around.” She chuckles to herself as she passes you to walk to the front door.

It warms your heart to think about how Peter has someone like May in his life. She provides the comfort and stability you know he needs to keep him from completely self-destructing. She slows him down when his thoughts become too much, she’s there for him when the work he forces himself to carry weighs him down. She is his rock, and sometimes, you think, he is hers.

You can still hear Peter chatting enthusiastically with Chloe; they certainly aren’t talking about the project anymore, and you definitely didn’t want to stay and listen. You walk into the living area and plop down on the couch with a sigh. Man, the times you’ve spent sat in this exact spot with your feet propped up on the coffee table, binge-watching movie trilogies with Peter.

Over the years, the Parker’s apartment has pretty much been a second home to you. You remember helping May decorate the apartment for Christmas with Peter, studying frantically for exams at the dining table with Peter, almost kissing Peter-

The melodic sound of Peter’s laugh echoes through the tiny apartment, bringing you back to right now. You felt your heart squeeze at the sound as you sink down further into the couch. He promised that the call wouldn’t be long, but after hearing the muffled bits of their conversation, it will definitely be a while before they hit “end call.” Without a second thought, you reach for the remote and turn on the T.V.

* * *

 

An hour and a half later, you’ve had enough. You obviously aren’t going to get anything done here, so you might as well go home; not to mention that you felt a little bad leaving your dad home alone for so long. He needs company.

Just as you’re about to step into Peter’s room to grab your bag, he’s standing right in front of you, arms resting on either side of the doorway, blocking your way in. “Y/N! So sorry, I didn’t think it would take that long.” He’s smiling, and it kind of annoys you. “We got a little bit off topic.” He’s still standing in the doorway, and, for a moment, you just want to shove him out of the way. “It’s alright,” you shrug, “it happens.”

His head is bent and he’s watching you carefully, but you don’t know what he’s looking for.

“I have to go.” You speak again and take a step closer to him, showing him that you want to pass through. A look of confusion flashes across his face, but it’s quickly replaced with a soft, forbearing expression. “I understand.”

He drops his arms and steps to the side, allowing you to hurry in and start shoving your schoolwork that was left on Peter’s bed into your backpack. You really feel like you should say something; the awkward silence right now was almost cringe-worthy. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” You say a little too quietly, scooping up your backpack and shrugging it onto your shoulders. Well, that was a weak attempt.

“Yeah, see you.” You stop to glance at him before you step out of his bedroom, but he’s not looking at you. He wasn’t looking at anything really. He was just staring off to the side as he tugged at his hair. He desperately wanted to say something but he was holding back, and for some reason that made you angry.

Without another word or glance, you hastily make your way down the hall and out of the apartment. There’s nothing that you want more than to go home and completely de-stress, but you know that even more awaits you at home, and your thoughts are still on Peter. How could they not be? Since when did it become hard for the two of you to talk to each other with complete honesty? And why did Peter talking to Chloe bother you so much?

Peter obviously doesn’t see it, but you know it’s only infatuation. Everyone loves somebody they can’t have, and someone always ends up getting hurt. You only hoped that Peter figures it out sooner rather than later.


	3. Chapter 3

When you were younger, your mom started this thing where she would make french toast for breakfast every Friday - “French Toast Fridays,” she called it - to celebrate the end of the week. She used to say that no matter how difficult it got or how long it seemed, you always had french toast to finish off your week.

She went all out when she made them too, with powdered sugar and bowls of fruit for you to decorate your breakfast with. She also claimed that only people without good taste drown their toast with syrup, so instead she always drizzled on real honey to top it all off.

Mornings were your mom’s favorite, she was definitely a model morning person. Her positive energy made you want to jump out of bed with a smile on your face, no coffee needed. She was literally the sunshine in your family’s life.

Now, the mornings were just as quiet as the evenings. The only noise that could be heard in your kitchen anymore was the scuffing of forks against plates and awkward small talk between you and your dad. You always had a really good relationship with your parents, you are just as close with your dad as you were with your mom, but since the accident, you and your dad had been tip-toeing around each other. It’s almost like the two of you had mutually agreed not to mention what had happened unless absolutely necessary.

You try hard to stay strong for you dad. He was barely holding it together himself, and you know it would be a lot harder on him if you broke down, so you force yourself to get up in the morning and take on the day, just like he has to. You eat breakfast together in a silent kitchen and say your goodbyes before you go your separate ways. You wouldn’t see each other again until the evening when your dad would come home from work and you would just be finishing your homework. Dinner normally consisted of either takeout or whatever the two of you could whip up with whatever you had left in the pantry.

You think about dinner as you walk to your locker. Would it be takeout or pizza again? You should probably go grocery shopping again soon, maybe that could be something you and your dad could do come the weekend. It would be nice for the both of you to get out of the house for a bit too…

Out of habit, you glance at Peter’s locker as you pass to see if he’s already there and nearly stop dead in your tracks. Peter is at his locker alright, but he’s not alone. Standing next to him in all her glory is Chloe Hansen.

You must be staring, because Peter’s eyes drift from Chloe to you. Before you could drop your head down and hurry off towards your own locker, Chloe follows his gaze and spots you.

“(Y/N)!” Her voice is annoyingly pitchy and easily manages to piss you off. She motions for you to come join them and you want more than anything to just turn and walk away, but you didn’t want to explain to Peter later why you try to avoid Chloe at all costs. He was blinded by infatuation. With reluctance, you walk over to where they’re standing and fake a weak smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

Chloe perks up like she was waiting for some kind of cue like that. “Actually, Pete and I were just talking about you!” You’re pretty sure you feel your eye twitch at her referring to him as “Pete.”

“Oh really? What about me?” You question, sneaking a glance towards Peter, who looks a bit uncomfortable. Chloe doesn’t even bother to lower her voice when she speaks again. “He told me about what happened to your mom. That is so sad.”

The look of utter surprise on your face must please her, because she continues. “I, like, can’t even imagine what that’s like. You must feel so terrible.” She sighs and shakes her head. You can’t even think of a response.

Peter, your best friend, the only person outside of your home that you actually trust, told Chloe the one thing you don’t want people to know. You don’t want their sympathy, you don’t want your classmates and teachers to go out of their way to offer their “condolences” when you know they don’t actually mean it. It may be the polite thing to do, but you’d rather just have people leave you alone and not bring it up.

“Anyways,” Chloe’s voice - like nails on a chalkboard - brings you out of your racing thoughts. She looks back at Peter and smiles, “are we still on for tonight?” Peter nods eagerly, looking at Chloe with such childlike excitement, “Yeah, yeah of course. See you then.” He smiles at her and you feel sick to your stomach.

With a wink, Chloe turns and walks away just as the first warning bell starts to ring. Students all around start to make their way to their next class; you turn to Peter.

“What the hell?” You hiss, “You told Chloe?” Peter shuts his locker and faces you, looking surprised at your sudden reaction. “Y-you came up in conversation. She asked how you were and it kind of slipped.” He adjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and shrugs, “I didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

“Not a big deal!” You could slap him right about now. “How is that up to you to decide?” You jab your finger hard into his chest. “Right now, school is nothing but a distraction for me. I come here and it allows me to take my mind off of my mom, the accident…” You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself before continuing, “It’s nice to not have to think about anything else than what’s in front of me, but you ruined that. Now people know, and school has become just another reminder.

You’re on the verge of tears now, and Peter looks panicked. “(Y/N), I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that. I-”

“You of all people should know what it’s like, Peter.” You cut him off, your tone low and hostile. He freezes, obviously hurt by what you just said, but you don’t care.

The late bell rings and the last of the students clear the hallway, leaving only you and Peter, but there’s nothing else to be said. You spin around on your heel and head for the nearest double doors - there was no way you could stay here for the rest of the day. Peter didn’t follow.

Outside, it was finally safe to let go. You lean against the outside wall of the school and cry. This is the first time you’ve had a proper cry since the day before the funeral.

You cry until you give yourself a headache. You cry for your dad, who is so obviously struggling like you are but is too stubborn to admit it, you cry for Peter and the trust that was now shattered between you two. But most of all, you cry for your mom. The sunshine in your life. The one whose voice you desperately need to hear just one more time, whether it be giving you advice or just some kind of goddamn closure.

You let your emotions run their course and wait until you can no longer muster up tears or even a little sniffle; you can’t let your dad see you like this. He needed you to be calm, cool, and collected. So you wipe your face, stand up straight, and start on your way home, stopping by the market to pick up a few things. Dinner wasn’t going to make itself.


End file.
